


Maggie

by McWriter



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dad Stark, Gen, Iron Dad, Iron Man 1, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark has a daughter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 17:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19977754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McWriter/pseuds/McWriter
Summary: What if Tony Stark had an unexpected kid at the height of his party life?Tony tries hard to be a good dad. But having a baby isn’t a quick-fix for all your problems. Tony remains eccentric. The genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Over-the-top. Feels too much, and not enough. Struggles with his emotions. It was always going to be a slow process. That's the Tony Stark his daughter grows up around. The man who tries.





	Maggie

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this a long time back, abandoned it when it became too hard to finish.
> 
> Endgame wrecked me, and I had to finish this. Because reasons.

Tony was at breakfast, skimming through his e-mails when he saw one from a name that sounded familiar, but not quite. The message was just two lines.

I’m having a baby girl.

Yours.

It wasn’t the first time a woman told him she was carrying his child. But this wasn’t just someone. There was, between them, about a decade’s worth of beating around the bush. Never quite getting together, because they couldn’t. Because he couldn’t.

He didn’t reply.

Tony was a wreck the few weeks after he read it. And that was saying something. Happy was extra vigilant. Rhodey worried more than he normally did. They practically shipped him off to isolation till he found his bearings. When he returned from his hiatus, Tony was the same man he’d always been. Peace of mind couldn’t be bought in a remote island with exquisite shrimp. What Tony did find in that time, however, was a resolve. Mulling over everything that was his life, he found no solution. But he realized he didn’t want to sit back and let this fall apart. That wasn’t him. That was never him.

So he replied.

And he tried. He listened to the heartbeat. He took the classes. He read the books. Most importantly, he did what he did best. He built stuff. Toys. Little science projects. Safety devices. A nursery that was most definitely not over-the-top, thank you very much. And he waited, until on an otherwise uneventful day of an uneventful year, Madison Maria Stark was born, and Tony spent the night curled up on an uncomfortable hospital chair, watching her with no small sense of wonder, his heart bursting full.

It was some time later when life caught on, that Tony, finally free from Happy’s clutches, was driving or rather speeding towards his destination, rehearsing a speech in a silent monotone. Against his chest, in a pocket of his suit, was a small box, deep blue in color, holding a plain yet pricey ring. Too simple, he thought to himself. It was a quick purchase, because all the time that life promised wasn’t going to be enough.

To his confusion, disappointment, and a tiny hint of frustration, the ring was refused, and left inside the box for many, many years to come, forgotten and forlorn. He never opened it, but whenever he was home and his daughter wasn’t going to be for the entire week, it reminded him of those photo-shoots he loathed as a kid – his father, the great Howard Stark, looking far too impeccable, his mother Maria Stark, warm and kind and beautiful, and a young Tony, pushing out a smile and tugging at the neck of his suffocating suit. Even his dad managed to create a picture-perfect family unit. And Tony resigned himself to wait.

“Daddy!”

Maggie ran over to Tony, nearly tackling him down with the hug if it wasn’t for Rhodey’s steady hand on his back. Not that Tony would have minded. His wait was a forever.

“Hey, baby bear,” he murmured to her as she tightened her arms around his neck. Maybe it was because his one arm was in a cast, so he could effectively employ only the working one for the hug. Or maybe it was because he was away so long. Or maybe, and how he wished he didn’t think of this option, maybe it was because he didn’t pay enough attention to how fast his daughter was growing up. She seemed so much bigger than the last time he saw her. And the uneasy sense of disarray that discretely made room for itself in his mind over the past many days of his involuntary exile in the middle of nowhere Afghanistan, started to gnaw at the edges of his thoughts.

“Hi, papa bear,” she whispered back, and Tony almost cried right there.

Maggie leaned back to observe his face, gently tracing the edges of the small cut on his cheek with a finger, mildly frowning at it as she waited for him to flinch. He didn’t. 

“You look old,” she said. 

Tony put a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended at the remark, and her frown deepened. But then, didn’t Tony stare at himself for a few solid minutes in the bathroom mirror of the plane, just prior to landing, observing the circles under his eyes darker than he ever knew them to be? And didn’t he also trace the edge of that same cut, and flinched because there was no-one watching? Didn’t he attempt to tousle his hair in precisely the right way, hoping to cover a second cut on his forehead, trying to ignore the effects of age and of the brutality inflicted on him – some by the world and others by himself, both kinds begging for attention – that seemed to have suddenly caught up with him in the time he spent in a cave in middle of fucking nowhere Afghanistan?

Tony hugged her again, and holding her close, whispered, “I missed you too.”

There were a few people about, nobody paying particular attention to him except those that were there specifically for him.

“Can I come with you?” Maggie was gliding her fingers over his cast, lightly poking at it in a distracted, and distracting way.

“Yeah, of course. You hungry? Cause I’m hungry.”

“You need a haircut,” she said, more to herself than him, her finger now hovering by the cut on his forehead, not brushing back the hair that obscured it. 

“Hogan, drive. Cheeseburger first.” 

The sky was a pasty blue, and he was at this airport before, he must have been. But really, he couldn’t be too sure. Who paid attention to airports anyway? They weren’t destinations, and did they even count as the journey? They were inconsequential pauses in a fast-paced life.

Maggie was leaning on him, her hand running over the chest-piece. She knew, and Tony silently shushed her to not bring it up. Pepper caught his eye for a moment, and he quickly looked away. He held Maggie closer, and listened to her talk about everything he missed in his time away, his throat tightening at every other word. He was okay. He was going to be okay. Right?

“Can I try it?”

Tony grinned to himself as Maggie looked at the suit in awe.

“It’s not a toy.”

She walked closer to the glass panel separating her from the red-and-gold, putting her hand on it as she examined the armor from up close.

“No touching,” Tony said, earning a frown from her. 

“I’m not going to break it,” she grumbled. “Can you put it on?” she asked, walking back to where Tony was fiddling with what was to eventually become a robot arm.

“I can.”

“Now?” She leaned by the table, looking at him in what she thought would pass for puppy eyes. “Pleease?”

Tony turned to her, amused at the expression she was trying to pull. The only reason the face worked on him is because it didn’t work like she intended it to, at all.

“Okay, but it has to be a secret,” he said, clearing his hands.

“Yes!” she said, turning back to go to the suit.

“I’m serious,” Tony added, asking Jarvis to ready the suit. “If Pepper finds out, you’re banned from the lab. Forever.”

She rolled her eyes, “I promise not to tell,” she droned, before she turned her attention to the suit as it made its way out from its confines.

Tony stepped onto the platform, and the suit beautifully fitted itself around him. Maggie’s eyes were keenly on him, and he smiled a small proud smile to himself.

“I want one,” she said.

“What?”

“The suit. We should make one for me.”

Tony looked at her silently in answer, till he realized she couldn’t see his questioning expression though the suit. He stepped towards her, letting her get a better look at the Iron Man. He kneeled down beside her, and let the face-cover pop off.

“We’re not making one for you,” he said, much to her disappointment.

“Why not?? The bad guys coming after you will come after me. I need a suit.”

“No. No one’s coming after you.” Tony was half-sure he was telling that to himself. “And if they do, that’s why I have the suit.”

“But I want one,” she mumbled.

Later that night, once Maggie was comfortably asleep in her room, Tony sat in his lab, staring at his suit, deep in thought.

I am Iron Man, he said. For the world to see, for the world to know.

Maybe. Maybe she would need a suit after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you! Thanks for reading! How about you leave a comment below telling me how much you loved this?
> 
> \- McWriter


End file.
